


i am my beloved's, and his desire is for me

by procellous



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Domestic Fantasies, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Flashbacks During Sex, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Happy Sex, Kink Negotiation, Laughter During Sex, M/M, Men Crying, Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Praise Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, checking in during sex, slight D/s undertones, talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-09-22 07:11:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9590396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/procellous/pseuds/procellous
Summary: Matt and Shiro talk about feelings





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this fandom needs more trans boy shiro and more explicit shatt. i am filling a niche. 
> 
> why do people call m/m smutfics "sin" i don't understand straight culture

“Shiro!” Matt said. “There you are. We need to talk.”

Matt looked pissed, and nothing good ever came of the words _we need to talk_. Shiro immediately started looking for an escape.

“Don’t you dare, Takashi, you can’t escape this conversation.” Matt sat down next to him. “What the hell did I _do?_ ”

Shiro stopped short, suddenly off-balance. “You didn’t do anything?” he said. “What—Matt, what are you talking about?”

“Then why don’t you touch me anymore?”

Shiro’s breath caught in his throat. “It’s not anything you did, Matt. It’s—it’s _this_.” He held up his right arm. 

“What does your arm have to do with anything?”

“You’ve seen me fight with it, right? I could hurt you, badly, on accident, and I couldn’t—I can’t—“

“First of all, a hug is not going to kill me. And I know you know that, because I’ve seen you hug Katie, and either you think I’m more fragile than her or that she’s expendable—and I _will_ kick your ass if that’s true—or there’s something else going on. So, what’s going on?”

Shiro hesitated. It sounded so silly now, when Matt was demanding to know why, but—

“I thought you didn’t want me to,” he confessed. 

“You thought I didn’t want you to,” Matt repeated. “ _Why?_ ” 

“One, I hurt you.” He ticked them off on his fingers as he spoke. “Two, I know you saw what I did in the arena. Three—“

“Stop.” Matt covered his hands with his own. “Stop,” he repeated, quieter. “I don’t blame you for any of that. I’m _proud_ of you, Shiro, I’m proud that you survived all that. I’m proud that you’re saving the universe. I love you, Shiro.”

Shiro could feel his face flaming. “I—“

Matt scowled. “If you’re about to do something awful like act like you don’t deserve it, I’m kicking your ass.”

“Point taken.” Slowly, gently, he lifted his left hand, and cupped Matt’s face with it.

“You see?” Matt said. “You’re not going to hurt me.” He leaned in, pressing his lips to Shiro’s cheek. “And if you’re really worried about that hand,” he whispered into Shiro’s ear, “I could just tie you up.”

… _oh_. That honestly wasn’t something he had considered before, but every cell in his body was screaming _Yes, please_. 

“Shiro? You okay?” Matt’s eyebrows were drawn together, worry in every line of his face. 

“Peachy,” he said, mouth dry. 

“Okay, see, I can’t tell if that’s sarcastic or not. So—”

“I’d—I’d like that. Being tied up. Yes.”

Matt smirked. “Want me to tie you up and tell you you’re a good boy? Because I can do that.”

Shiro could feel his brain start to melt a little. 

* * *

Matt watched Shiro straining against the cuffs, the blue glow catching on the white tuft in Shiro’s hair. It was a really nice view: Shiro stretched out and shirtless on the bed, muscles rippling underneath skin with every movement, his legs hidden by loose sweatpants. In the dim light, he looked ethereal and impossible, and not for the first time Matt thanked his lucky stars that Shiro wanted _him_.

“Are the cuffs good? Not too tight?”

“Yeah.” Shiro’s voice was a little hoarse, and it sent tingles down Matt’s spine.

“Good boy,” Matt purred. “And if you don’t like something, just say so.”

Shiro looked at him through half lidded eyes, and honestly that was just twenty different kinds of unfair. 

Matt straddled him, thighs stretched around Shiro’s stomach, and kissed him. Shiro made a little whimpering sound as he pulled away that went straight to his dick. Matt kept going, pressing kisses along Shiro’s jaw and trailing down to his throat. Shiro tipped his head back to give him better access, and he sucked and bit on the side of Shiro’s neck, where he knew it would be visible in their civilian clothes. Shiro moaned as one of Matt’s hands roamed over to one nipple, pinching and teasing. 

“You good?” Matt asked.

“Very.” 

Matt hummed and moved down to Shiro’s chest, so that he was straddling Shiro’s thighs. His torso was covered in scars: the old, faded ones from his top surgery blended in under the newer scars from a year of fighting. Matt ran gentle fingers over them, trying to gauge Shiro’s reaction. 

“How does that feel?” he asked. 

“Numb,” Shiro said. Matt moved his hand to just beside the scar, and Shiro whimpered. 

“How’s that?” he said. “Good?”

“Yeah,” Shiro gasped. “Yeah, really—nh—sensitive.” 

Matt grinned. 

“You’re so brave,” he said, remembering Shiro’s reaction to praise. “You’ve been so strong. I’m proud of you.” He ran his hand along one particularly large scar, stretching across his chest and stomach. He could remember watching Shiro getting hit there, how he had watched with horror as Shiro didn’t get up. 

He kissed the scar, planting butterfly kisses along one side of it. Shiro gave a stifled whimper. Matt glanced up to find him biting his lip.

“Don’t,” Matt said, running his thumb over Shiro’s lips. “I want to hear your pretty voice.”

He ducked back down to Shiro’s hips, and Shiro gasped as Matt ran his fingers under the waistband of the sweatpants. 

“Lift your hips for me,” Matt said. Shiro obeyed, and Matt pulled the sweatpants down to his knees. “Good boy.”

His thighs were covered in scars as well, some worryingly close to the pulse point. Matt kissed it, feeling Shiro’s pulse beneath his lips. It jumped and fluttered. Matt nipped at it, listening to Shiro moaning with every scrape of teeth. 

“Still good?” he asked. 

Shiro just moaned. 

“Ah-ah, use your words.”

“Good.” Shiro sounded wrecked. “So good, Matt, don’t stop.”

Matt hummed and ran a finger along the soft, slick flesh of Shiro’s entrance. Shiro whimpered. 

“Good?”

“Yes, yesyes _yes_ —“

Matt rubbed either side of the slit, right by the thighs, and Shiro gasped out his name.

“You’re so wet,” Matt said, hoping he didn’t sound like an idiot. Then again, Shiro didn’t seem like he would really care, at this point. He slipped a finger inside, keeping an eye on Shiro’s face. His eyes were unfocused and fuzzy, his lips parted. “So wet, just for me.”

Matt wiggled his finger, feeling the bumps and ridges of Shiro’s cunt with every movement. He pulled out until it was just the barest fingertip, and added a second finger. Shiro’s back arched, hips lifting off the mattress. 

“Matt,” he gasped. 

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Matt said, and replaced his fingers with his mouth. 

Shiro tensed his thighs around Matt’s head, holding him in place as though Matt was going to just leave him like this. He gripped Shiro’s ass, one cheek in each hand, to keep his hips up and his entrance where Matt could get at it. 

He lapped at Shiro’s slit with broad strokes, slick pooling on his tongue. Shiro was well past incoherence, babbling his name and begging for more. It was glorious, the normally serious and unflappable commander reduced to pleading cries. 

“Still good?” he asked. 

“Don’t stop,” Shiro said.

Matt flicked Shiro’s clit with his tongue, slipping it inside his cunt as deep as it would go. His nose pressed against Shiro’s mound. 

If Shiro was wiling, next time they would do this without the handcuffs, so that he could pull Matt’s hair while he did this. 

Shiro’s cunt spasmed around his tongue, and he pulled out a little bit. Instead, he refocused his efforts on his clit, standing proud out of the folds. He ran the tip of his tongue around the nub, teasing it gently, then passed over the top of it. 

Shiro screamed out Matt’s name, and came all over his mouth. 

Matt could hear Shiro still panting for breath while Matt licked him clean and pulled away.

“Good?”

“Matt,” Shiro said, breathless and giddy, “That was amazing.”

Matt hummed. “Let me get you out of those.”

“Wait, Matt, you didn’t—“

“Mm, no, I didn’t. I still want to get you out of the handcuffs, though. How are your shoulders?” The cuffs clicked off easily, leaving them in the not-quite-dark.

“Little sore.” 

“Here, turn around. I’ll give them a rub.”

He massaged Shiro’s muscles, feeling tension dissolve away. Shiro hummed, head lolling back onto Matt’s shoulder. “We should do that more.”

“Which part?”

“All of it. Fuck, Matt, that was the best orgasm I’ve had all year.”

“And how many orgasms did you _have_ in the past year?”

Shiro waved a lazy hand. “Not important.”

Matt kissed him just below his ear, nibbling and sucking on his jawline. 

“They’re gonna see those,” he said. 

“What’s your point?”

“You’re evil.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Not really, no.”

Shiro twisted around so that they were face to face—or, well, face to chest: Shiro was propped up on his elbows, the upper part of his chest off the bed, while Matt was sitting up. He pulled himself up to rest his chin on Matt’s shoulder, and reached down to palm the bulge in his pants. 

Matt’s higher brain functions switched off at the first brush of pressure, which would be a little embarrassing if Shiro’s hand wasn’t also _magic_. Shiro hadn’t even gotten past the thin cloth barrier between them yet, rubbing the inside of his thigh and ghosting over the tip of his dick.

“So good,” Matt said. “God, look at you, you’re perfect.” He cradled Shiro’s head in his hands, kissing him. 

Shiro slipped his hand into Matt’s pants, calloused fingers wrapping around the base and sliding up to the tip, ghosting along with just the tiniest hint of pressure. His hips bucked forward, searching for friction. 

His thumb brushed at the slit, gathering up the precome and using it to slick his way down the shaft. Matt’s brain had mostly turned off, and all he could do was babble praise.  

Shiro teased his balls before trailing back up again, feather-light brushes of fingers along the underside of his shaft, and Matt came into Shiro’s palm. 

“You’re so good,” he mumbled. “Absolutely perfect.” He grabbed Shiro by the back of his neck and pulled him down to flop on top of him. 

“Matt, we should really clean up.”

“Uh-huh,” Matt said. “Sure. But first, cuddles.”

“I can’t cuddle, my hand is sticky.”

Matt grinned at him, and grabbed his wrist. Slowly, carefully, he licked Shiro’s palm, sucking on the fingers and cleaning it off. 

“There,” he said when Shiro’s hand was clean. “Now, cuddles.”

* * *

Matt may have been a little smug as he watched the team try and fail to not pay attention to the bruises on Shiro’s neck the next morning. He was definitely smug as he watched Shiro fidget to avoid putting weight on the bruise Matt had left on his thigh. 

This was a familiar scenario: Shiro, the straight-laced prodigy, with obvious, undeniable hickeys on his throat that nobody knew how or if to ask him about. If Matt was a dragon, he’d hoard awkward moments like this: the team all eating and studiously not looking at Shiro’s neck, except for the not-so-subtle glances they threw as though making sure the marks hadn’t been a hallucination. 

Next time, he decided, he was going to leave more marks, just to watch him squirm. 

“You look like the cat who caught the canary,” Shiro said after breakfast, when it was just the two of them in a quiet corner. 

“Does that make you the canary?”

“Well, you did eat me last night.”

Matt snorted with laughter. “Oh god, Shiro, you can’t just say that. Holy shit. What would Allura say if she heard you?”

Shiro grinned. “You’re the one who left bruises where everyone could see. She might just decide that we hate each other and can’t stop fighting.”

“Nah, we’re too affectionate. She’d probably think human mating is barbaric, though.”

Shiro pitched his voice high in an absolutely awful imitation of Allura. “What do you mean, mating leaves bruises?”

“And that was one of the greatest decisions of my life, I have no regrets.” 

“So…last night was good?”

“Very good. We should do that again. If you’re willing, anyway.”

“Of course I am. That was some of the best sex we’ve had.” Shiro kissed his neck. “I didn’t really get a chance to mark you up, though. We should fix that. Right now.”

Matt made an embarrassing noise that was mostly squeak. “Shiro, we’re in public. Anyone could walk in.”

“Mm-hmm.” Shiro’s flesh hand crept up his chest under his shirt. His teeth scraped over the pulse point in Matt’s neck. 

“You’re a menace, I don’t know why anyone thinks you’re a responsible adult.”

“’s why I keep Keith around,” Shiro said, voice muffled by Matt’s neck. “For contrast.”

Matt couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “You’re amazing.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> less porn, more feelings

Shiro lounged on the couch, reading a lion-generated translation of an Altean book. Matt sat across from him, their legs tangled together, fiddling with a tablet.

“How do you feel about blindfolds?” Matt asked. 

“Blindfolds?” Shiro repeated, glancing at him over the top of his book. Matt hadn’t looked up from his tablet.

“Yes, Shiro. Blindfolds. Pieces of cloth that go over your eyes so that you can’t see.”

“I know what a blindfold is.”

“Right, so, if I were to blindfold you, would that be good or bad?”

“It would be very annoying when I needed to fly.”

Matt smacked his knee, still not looking away from his tablet. “You know what I mean. During sex, if I blindfolded you, would that be okay?”

Shiro paused for a moment, trying to imagine that—not able to see, just feel. In the dark, nothing but Matt’s touch and the sound of his voice to keep him grounded. 

“Shiro?” He blinked and Matt was looking at him, concern in his eyes. “You with me?”

“Yeah. Just—trying to picture it.”

“Is it worth a shot?”

“Let’s try it, and if it’s not good, we can stop.”

Matt grinned, and Shiro’s heart skipped a beat.

* * *

Shiro was completely naked, kneeling on a cushion, hands tied behind his back and a blindfold over his eyes. The room was carefully calibrated to be the perfect temperature for humans—Coran had assured them of that early on—but it still felt a little cold, a slight breeze on his bare skin, like there was a fan somewhere in the room. 

“Comfortable?” Matt asked. 

“Yeah.”

Matt raked a hand through his hair, cradling his head and guiding him to open his mouth. 

Blindfolded blowjobs, then. It made sense, given the position. 

“You’re thinking too much,” he said. “Just relax, I’ve got you.”

He let himself drift into a pleasant haze as he sucked Matt off, listening to the praise and letting the feeling of Matt’s hands be the only things keeping him grounded in reality. They trailed over his face, his cheeks and jawline, fanning out over his ears and gently scraping over his scalp. 

“Good boy,” Matt said, “So good for me.” 

Haggar’s hands ghosted over his face, her nails digging into his chin as she forced his mouth open. 

“Shiro?” Matt asked, pushing him off. “You okay in there?”

“Fine,” Shiro said, knowing that if he told Matt he wasn’t, the praise would stop. He leaned in, and Matt guided him back onto his cock. 

He made himself focus on the weight of Matt’s cock in his mouth, the salty taste of the precome, and the way Matt’s voice hitched mid-word when he sucked. 

The Galra tugged at his hair, a vicious pull that left Shiro’s scalp stinging and sore.

“Good boy,” the Galra said, voice distant and echoing. Clawed hands scratched at his face, nearly drawing blood. “That’s it, so good.” Shiro gasped in pain. 

“Shiro,” Matt said. “Still okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Matt kissed him. “Do you want to do something else? You don’t seem like you’re enjoying this.” 

“No, no, I am, I want to keep going.”

“Okay,” Matt said. “If you aren’t okay, just say so.”

“Right,” Shiro said, and went back to sucking.

It was good at first; Shiro went back to that pleasant floating space where nothing really seemed to matter while he flicked his tongue around Matt’s head, and all the strain and pressure of having a body floated away. 

Clawed fingers ran around his head, through the close-cropped hair, and cradled his neck, digging in a little. Shiro could hear the raspy breathing of a Galra doctor, running his hands all over Shiro’s body like a piece of meat, ready to torture him. He was already restrained and blindfolded and gagged, muscles tensed in anticipation and suddenly there was light and someone was untying him. 

“Shiro,” Matt said. “When I asked if you were okay, that was your cue to say ‘I’m having flashbacks.’” He blinked, adjusting to the light and trying to process Matt’s words. 

“Matt, no, I’m fine, we can keep going.”

Matt recoiled in disgust, and Shiro’s heart fell down to somewhere around his ankles. “No? No, we’re not going to do that, you’re going to sit there while I get you some water, and then we’re going to talk about this.”

Shame curled in Shiro’s belly. He had fucked everything up, and Matt was never going to want to do this again. Why couldn’t he have stayed in the present? Matt hated him now, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Matt never wanted to be near him again. 

He could feel the tears pricking at his eyes. He scrubbed them away, tried to chase out the whispers that sounded suspiciously like Sendak with the memory of Matt’s praise. It didn’t work very well, the words hollow with the knowledge of Matt recoiling, Matt leaving, the imminent _talk about this_ where Matt would say that he couldn’t be with someone who couldn’t—who couldn’t just enjoy sex like a normal person.

* * *

Matt walked carefully back to the room, carrying a cup of water and trying not to spill any. He replayed the scene again and again, trying to pinpoint where he went wrong. He should have been paying better attention, he decided, and clearly the blindfold was no good.

Shiro was crying, kneeling on the cushion and sobbing quietly. He looked up when Matt entered, eyes gone red and puffy. 

Matt knelt down in front of him, passing the cup to him and rubbing his back. 

“Slow sips,” he said. “Don’t rush, we have plenty of time.”

He watched Shiro sip the water, trying to figure out how to comfort him. This was so far out of his comfort zone that he couldn’t begin to figure out what to do, but Shiro needed him to try. 

“So,” he said, trying to keep his voice light, “The blindfold’s a bust, then.”

Shiro looked abruptly panicked. “No, no, it’s okay, we can try again,” he said.

…Well, _that_ was concerning. “Shiro, if it’s giving you flashbacks then we’re not going to use it.”

“You liked it, right? So it’s fine, we just need to try again.”

“I don’t like things that give you flashbacks! You were crying, Shiro, and you had gotten all tense and—and—“ He couldn’t keep going. 

“No, it’s okay, I’m fine, I’ll be good, _please_ —“

Matt’s brain screeched to a halt. “What—Shiro, no, stop. Stop. Just…stop, for a moment—what do you mean, ‘I’ll be good?’”

“I won’t cause problems—“ There were tears in Shiro’s eyes again. 

“Shiro, the only _problem_ here is that you didn’t tell me when you were having a flashback!” And the self esteem thing, apparently. _I’ll be good,_ like…like…

Like he thought his only value to Matt was sex.

The idea made his stomach clench. The praise thing—that was supposed to be lighthearted, cheering him up, making sure he knew he was worth something other than just fighting, not that his only worth to Matt was having sex. 

_Fallacy of intention, Holt._

He took a deep breath. “Takashi,” he said slowly, putting one hand on his shoulder, ready to pull back at a moment’s notice, “We need to have this conversation, but I don’t think now’s the right time. Why don’t you get dressed, maybe have something to eat, and we’ll talk about this in the morning?”

Shiro nodded. The exhaustion part of flashbacks must have set in, because he looked about to pass out. 

“Do you want me to get you something? More water, food, your clothes? Help you get up?”

He shook his head.

“Should I stay here with you, or do you want me to leave?” Shiro looked torn. “I won’t be mad if you tell me to leave, I promise.”

“Leave,” Shiro said, voice hoarse.

“Okay. I’ll see you in the morning. I love you.” He kissed Shiro’s forehead, just under the bangs, and hoped that sleep would help them both be a little less vulnerable. 

* * *

Shiro dreaded the morning. His bed was cold and empty without Matt in it, but it would be better to get used to that sooner rather than later. He had woken up a few times, panicked, because he couldn’t hear Matt’s gentle breathing next to him, and then he remembered: Matt wasn’t here, because Matt was going to break up with him. 

He could still see the revulsion in Matt’s eyes, the horror and disappointment. It had always been just a matter of time before Matt realized just how badly damaged he really was and left him, just a matter of time before he realized he deserved better than Shiro. 

Matt found him just after a tense, quiet breakfast, sitting in a forgotten wing of the Castle, watching the stars. 

“Shiro? We need to talk about last night.”

“I know what you’re going to say.”

“Do you?” Matt looked almost angry. “So, tell me. What do you think I’m going to say.”

“You’re going to break this off,” he waved a hand in the air to indicate both of them, “And you’ll probably say something about how you hope we can still be friends, or something.”

“I thought you might say something like that, and you are one hundred percent wrong.”

“ _What?_ ”

“I’m not breaking up with you, not over this.” He sighed. “You really scared me, last night. I don’t think you realize just how terrifying that was. One minute, everything’s fine, the next, you look like I sucker-punched you. And then you wouldn’t even admit that you weren’t fine when it was really obvious what was going on! _I hurt you_ , Shiro. I hurt you, and now you’re acting like you’re the one at fault!”

There were tears in Matt’s eyes, spilling over onto his cheeks. 

“No, Matt, it wasn’t your fault. I should have been in control of myself more. This isn’t your fault, I shouldn’t be burdening you with my problems.”

“It’s not a burden! I care about you, I want to help you! I _want_ you to talk to me about your problems, I want to share in them! You don’t need to protect me, Shiro, especially not from yourself!” Matt’s voice was climbing higher and higher, reaching a fever pitch. 

“I,” Shiro began. He looked down, unable to face Matt. “I didn’t want you to realize how bad it was. You keep talking about how I’m good and brave and strong and—and none of that’s true. I just didn’t want you to stop.”

Matt wrapped his arms around Shiro. “It is true. All of it is true. I know it is. You sacrificed yourself to save me, you’re fighting every day against the Galra—Shiro, I don’t know how you can think that you’re not a hero. I’m always going to love you and be proud of you, no matter what.”

Shiro’s breath hitched. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, exactly,” he said, “I just…It feels like I manipulated you into thinking I’m a good person, and that if you really knew me, you wouldn’t think that I was a good person.”

“Takashi, listen to me.” Matt lifted his face one-handed, turned him to face him. “I know you. I’ve known you for a while, now. I know who you are. You’re the man who took care of Keith, his first year in the Garrison. You’re the man that sacrificed himself to save me. You’re the man that’s the Black Lion chose out of everyone in the universe to lead Voltron. That’s all you. It’s always been you.” His eyes were unbearably sincere.

“I…”

“Besides,” he said, a look in his eyes that called up memories of being sent to the principal’s office, back at the Garrison, “Do you really think you managed to trick an ancient, psychic, magical robot lion?”

“Well, when you put it like that,” he grumbled.

Matt pressed a kiss to Shiro’s temple. 

“So, will you tell me when you start having flashbacks? I want to help you, Shiro, but I can’t unless you’re honest with me.”

“I will. I promise.”

Matt smiled and Shiro knew he would do anything if it meant Matt would keep looking at him like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will i ever write a character in an emotional scene that isn't at least vaguely borderline, a mystery for the ages


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i am back with fluff porn, extra feelings, with a side of please-let-these-boys-rest

Victory highs were a wonderful thing. Shiro and Matt barely got through their door before devouring each other, Shiro’s hands buried in Matt’s hair, Matt’s hands around Shiro’s hips. Shiro’s back hit the soft mattress of their bed with a soft thump and a noise he didn't really mean to make, high in the back of his throat.   
  
“Matt,” he moaned, their bodies chest to chest and every motion glorious, wonderful friction between his legs, “Matt, I want you to fuck me.” He kissed Matt’s collarbone, working up a bruise with his teeth.   
  
“Condom,” Matt gasped as Shiro started sucking. “Condom, we need—“  
  
“Bedside table,” Shiro said, breaking off of Matt's neck. “Top drawer.”  
  
Matt rolled off, fishing out a condom and a bottle of lube from the drawer. Shiro spread his legs out on the bed, fisting his hands in the sheets.   
  
“Front or back?” Matt said, kneeling between his legs.   
  
“Whichever, I don’t care, just _get in me_.”  
  
He kissed Shiro’s neck while he fingered him, every motion sending shivers up his spine. Matt looked like sex itself: hair ruffled and messy, lips swollen from kissing, bite marks all along his neck and shoulders, completely focused on fingering Shiro open.   
  
Shiro was so gay. He couldn’t think straight with Matt kneeling over him like that—as though he could think straight anyway, and that may have been an old joke but it was still hilarious to Shiro.   
  
Matt’s hands were _magic_ , he decided, and he came on Matt’s fingers with a cry of his name.   
  
“Good?” Matt asked.  
  
“Very,” he gasped, trembling a little in the aftershocks but still feeling the need to be fucked. It wasn't a bad feeling, really, although dampened by the fact that Matt was still not fucking him. “But I remember telling you to fuck me. I said that, right?”  
  
“Yeah, but a: I just fucked you, you didn’t specify what body part I should do it with, and b: patience yields focus. That’s what your duckling keeps saying, right?”  
  
Shiro couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of him. “You fucker,” he said, “You’re an asshole, oh my god, I can’t believe this, you’re such a little shit—“  
  
“I feel like I should be offended.”  
  
Shiro pulled his face down to kiss him.   
  
“Matt,” he said, trying very hard not to burst into laughter as he spoke and mostly failing, “I want you to put your thingy in my you-know-what.”  
  
Matt blinked. He snickered, and then roared with laughter, leaning back as he did until he nearly fell off the bed. He barely caught himself on the edge of the mattress, still giggling. Shiro snickered a little too, until Matt caught his eye and he broke into full out laughter.   
  
They laughed until their mouths were sore. Every so often they would trail off, but then make eye contact and it was too much. Something about the laughing was cleansing; some unconscious worry Shiro didn't even realize he had been carrying loosened and melted away.  
  
Shiro kissed Matt’s bare shoulder, feeling the warmth of his freckle-dusted skin under his lips, and thanked every lucky star that Matt was here and safe and warm.   
  
“Stick your dick in me,” he whispered into Matt’s ear.  
  
“And they say romance is dead.” Matt’s eyes shone with laughter, and Shiro fell in love a little bit all over again.   
  
Matt’s fingers were back, tracing gently along his folds and opening him up. The head of his cock slipped inside easily, wet with lube and slick, the latex dragging along Shiro’s walls.   
  
He really liked Matt’s dick. It wasn’t exactly large, narrow and a little shorter than most, but it fit perfectly inside Shiro as though they had been made to fit in each other.   
  
Shiro grabbed Matt by the shoulders, flipped them over, and grinned down at him. He rolled his hips to get the head back inside, but nothing more than that. He clenched up a little, the way that he knew would make Matt whimper his name.  
  
Matt’s eyes were wide and he was breathing hard. Alarm replaced the satisfaction.  
  
“Matt?” If he had triggered Matt he would never forgive himself. “Are you okay?”  
  
Matt blinked twice, as though trying to process the words.  
  
“Matt?” Shiro repeated.   
  
“Fuck, yes, yes, I’m okay, don’t stop. Holy _fuck,_ Shiro.”  
  
“You looked kinda out of it, you sure you’re—“  
  
“That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen you do,” he interrupted. “My ridiculously beefy boyfriend.” He ran his hands along Shiro’s biceps and pecs. “You should manhandle me more.”  
  
“Um,” Shiro said eloquently. “Good?”  
  
Fuck, Matt was gorgeous like this. His eyes were dark as honey, pulling Shiro in deep. His mouth was open a little, his lips swollen from kissing. If Shiro could preserve one moment forever, it would probably be this: Matt smiling up at him, comfortable and safe and trusting.   
  
He rolled his hips gently, watching Matt moan underneath him. He pressed his (human) hand on Matt’s chest for support, repeating the motion but still not taking him in deeper.   
  
Matt whined, high in the back of his throat, and tried to buck up. Shiro moved up with him, clenching the small ring of muscles as he did.   
  
“Shiro, you _tease_!”  
  
Shiro laughed and leaned forward. “You like being pinned as much as I do, don’t you?”   
  
“Fuck you,” Matt said, laughter in his eyes. “You’re awful, you know that, right?”  
  
“That’s not what you said a minute ago.” He pitched his voice higher. “Oh Shiro, you’re so manly, take me now.”  
  
“I don’t sound like that!” Matt protested.   
  
“Manhandle me, Shiro,” he continued, “Take me away and ravish me with your wicked, wicked ways!”  
  
“God, you sound like a bodice ripper. Stop that.”  
  
“Stop what,” he said, sinking down another half-inch, “This?”  
  
Matt keened and made a sound that might have been his name. Shiro rocked on his dick, rolling his hips and running his fingertips along the shaft.   
  
“So, Matt,” Shiro said conversationally, and not at all as though he had half of Matt’s dick inside him, “What was it you were saying earlier about synthetic organic tissues?”  
  
“You had better be going somewhere with this.”  
  
“I’m being a good boyfriend and listening to you tell me about your work, obviously.” He pecked Matt on the lips.   
  
“No, you’re being a terrible boyfriend and ruining the mood.” Matt glared playfully.   
  
Shiro ducked his head down to Matt’s neck and bit down.  
  
“Ta—” Matt gasped. Shiro nipped at his skin and sucked around it. It’d bruise, something that sent tiny frissons of pleasure down his spine. Matt gasped and bucked up, and Shiro let him. He sucked a bit on the bite mark.   
  
“Takashi,” Matt whimpered. Shiro hummed and pressed his nose against Matt's ear. The ends of his hair tickled Shiro's cheekbones. He stayed there for a moment, enjoying having Matt's dick inside him, feeling it twitch occasionally, but more importantly having Matt here with him.   
  
He rolled his hips gently, and Matt made a noise like a squeaky toy someone had stepped on and came.   
  
"You good?" Shiro asked.   
  
"Mm. Yeah, I'm very good." Matt ran a hand along Shiro's side. "They're going to notice those love bites, you know. Are you sure you want your team knowing that you have emotions?"  
  
"I think I'll manage." There were all sorts of logical arguments in favor of his stoicism, but none of them mattered when Matt's hair was splayed out like a halo on the white pillows and his neck and shoulders were covered in hickeys. "We should clean up."  
  
"Mm, yeah. We should do that."  
  
Shiro pulled off of Matt, feeling weirdly empty without Matt's dick inside him. Matt sat up, leaning against the headboard, and pulled the condom off his dick, tying it off and tossing it in the trash can.   
  
"Wow," Matt said. "I am so glad that didn't miss, that narrowly avoided being incredibly messy and you laughing at me."  
  
"I wouldn't have laughed," Shiro said. It wasn't entirely true.   
  
"And that is a complete and utter lie. You should be ashamed of yourself, Takashi Shirogane. What sort of example are you setting for our children?"  
  
"Our children?" Shiro raised an eyebrow. "Since when do we have children?'  
  
"Since you adopted a whole spaceship full of them. A family can be two dads, an uncle, four kids, and a cousin."  
  
"So," Shiro said, trying to puzzle out the relations, "We're the dads, Coran is the uncle, the other paladins are the four kids and then Allura is the cousin?"  
  
"Yup. Oh, and Slav. Slav is important. Slav is another uncle."   
  
Shiro still didn't understand how Matt and Slav managed to get along so well. It was amazing and very confusing.   
  
"Hey," Matt said. "Hey, love, stop thinking for a minute. Come here and let me cuddle you."  
  
Shiro let Matt pull him into a hug, and he ran his hands through Matt's hair. The copper locks slipped through his fingers. His hand, his flesh and blood hand, hesitated on the back of Matt's neck.   
  
Matt slid up and kissed Shiro gently. "I'm here," he whispered. "It's okay, you can touch me."   
  
That wasn't quite what was making Shiro hesitate, although the permission was nice. He cupped Matt's cheek in one hand, and kissed him. Matt's lips slid open under his in an easy give-and-take.   
  
They lay there for a while, enjoying the afterglow. Shiro let him slip into a daydream: him and Matt, in a house somewhere; somewhere on Earth, with flowers by the window and a yellow kitchen. Matt kissing him as he went to work, Shiro holding one of their children; a little girl with Matt's eyes. Shiro had never particularly prized domesticity before fighting in this war, but Matt's comment about their kids had sparked the thoughts.   
  
"Hey, Matt," Shiro said softly. "Do you ever…do you ever think about having kids?"  
  
Matt lifted his head slightly. "Sometimes? Why do you ask?"  
  
"Dunno," Shiro said. "Just. Thinking about the future, I guess. What are we going to do after all this? Go back to Earth, pretend nothing happened?"  
  
"Might be tricky, since we were declared dead by the Garrison. But I get what you mean. I wouldn't mind something domestic, after all this. Imagine it. Just us, no war, no fighting, just us and a little house somewhere. Two-point-five kids and a white picket fence."  
  
"You'd get bored."  
  
"I'd get bored," Matt agreed. "Doesn't that sound wonderful?"  
  
It really did; after the Galra, and finding the lions and forming Voltron and fighting a war to defeat an empire that had been doing nothing but conquering for ten thousand years…the thought of being bored in a quiet life in a quiet town with Matt sounded like the best possible ending to this entire thing. Maybe he'd write a book about it.   
  
He rolled over and kissed Matt gently. "I wouldn't mind being bored with you."  
  
"Oh, well, if you wouldn't mind, let's arrange the wedding." Matt was smiling.   
  
"A fall wedding," Shiro said. It felt like an impossible dream. "Something small and private, just us and the people we're closest to."  
  
"Half the guests would be aliens, we'd have to write up a little guide for them. 'How to behave at a human wedding.'"  
  
Shiro smiled as Matt talked, watching his thick lashes batting and catching the light. "Hey, Matt," he said, something in his chest tight with emotion. "I love you."  
  
Matt turned his head to one side, smiling softly. "I know."

**Author's Note:**

> yell with me about shatt on tumblr i'm stillherestillqueer


End file.
